Rowdy From the Past
by Freyla
Summary: Rowdy Symcox, a creepy old schoolmate of Joe, Brian and Helen, returns to the island. In school he had been obsessed with Helen, who still wants nothing to do with him, but then she learns something shocking that may cause her to rethink her priorities.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Wings or any of its characters._

Note: This story takes place during the beginning of the second season.

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"Announcing Sandpiper flight number seventeen from New Bedford arriving through Gate one," said the cheerful voice of Fay Cochran over the intercom. As the passengers unloaded and filed in casually through the doors, Joe pushed passed them and ran over to Helen's lunch counter.

"Helen! Helen, come here," he whispered as he leaned over the counter, glancing frantically behind him.

"Yeah," said Helen. She was busy with the coffee pot and it took her a moment to get away. "What is it?" she asked in her twangy Texas accent, but before she could get a response from Joe, the pilot suddenly leapt over the counter and shoved a surprised Helen beneath the counter.

"Joe, what're you doin?" she shouted, but Joe ducked down just long enough to put a finger to his lips.

"Shh, don't say anything. It's Rowdy Symcox, from high school. He was on my flight."

"Rowdy Symcox," whined Helen. What's he doing here? That weirdo…"

"Quiet! Here he comes," said Joe. He stood suddenly and pretended to be cleaning the counter. The topic of their whispering, Rowdy Symcox, sauntered over to the counter and sat down on one of the stools. He was a tall, lean man with dark, slicked hair and thick glasses. He wore an expensive looking striped suit and a coat. For a moment he looked casually around the terminal, and then he quickly glanced at a menu. He held up a finger and addressed Joe without looking at him.

"I'll just take a cup of coffee and an English muffin please," he said.

"Uh, sure," said Joe. "Coming right up." Joe disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to grab the muffin. He brought it out and poured the cup of coffee. "Is there anything else I can get you?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Rowdy. "Can I get a coaster? I don't like to get my sleeves wet from those coffee stain rings on the counter."

"Okay," said Joe. He looked around for a coaster and couldn't find where Helen kept them. He ducked quickly into the kitchen, and while he was gone Helen grabbed a coaster from the stand behind the counter where she was hiding. She reached up and put the coaster on the counter in front of Rowdy, who was busy watching the terminal and only saw the coaster out of the corner of his eye.

"Thanks," he said, and he turned back to his muffin and coffee. Joe came back out from the kitchen, still having found no coasters. He was about to think of some excuse when he saw that Rowdy had one, so instead he stood and said nothing.

"Say," said Rowdy suddenly. "How long have you lived on the island?"

"All my life," said Joe, smiling pleasantly, then he suddenly frowned as he realized his mistake.

Rowdy stopped and Joe could feel the other man studying his face. _Please, please, please! _thought Joe. _Don't let him recognize me._

"Well, we must have gone to school together then. You look a little familiar, but I can't seem to place you. What's your name?"

"Ben," Joe lied.

"Ben who?"

"Ben, uh, Fenpinn." Joe said the first thing that came to his mind, and he cringed at his own idiocy. But Rowdy only looked thoughtful as he tried to place the name. "I was home-schooled," said Joe. "You wouldn't know me."

"Ah," said Rowdy. "Well, would you happen to know a Helen Chappel, then?"

"Helen?" asked Joe. "Uh, no. I don't know that name."

Rowdy furrowed his brow. "Well, that's odd. One of my old friends said she worked here."

"Oh, Helen _Chappel_," said Joe. "Yeah, she's on vacation—she won't be back for a couple of weeks. I'm just filling in for her."

"Ah, so you work behind the lunch counter? Hey, what's with the wings on your shirt? Do you waiters have to wear those too?"

"No, no, these aren't mine. They're my brother's, I just borrowed them. He's a pilot."

"Really? Which airline?"

"Sandpiper, he's the owner."

"Yeah, I came on the Sandpiper flight over here. Very nice plane."

"Thanks," said Joe. "I-I mean, for my brother. I'll tell him you said so."

Rowdy looked at him for a moment, then he sighed. Getting up to leave, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a card which he handed to Joe.

"Will you do me a favor? Give this to Helen when you see her, tell her I'd just like to see her again, catch up on old times. We went to school together."

"Okay, I will," said Joe. Rowdy finished his coffee and hurried out the door.

"He's gone," Joe said to Helen. He dropped his head down onto the counter, relieved to finally be rid of him. Helen remained sitting on the floor, grumbling and huffing about Weird Rowdy coming back to bother her.

Brian walked in through the terminal entrance and sat down at the counter. "Joe, you're on the wrong side of the bar," he told his brother. "But while you're there, can you make me a BLT?"

Helen rose then and leaned over the counter, still nervous that Rowdy might be lurking around. "Rowdy Symcox was here," she said. "I was hiding and Joe was covering for me."

"Rowdy Symcox, from our school days?" said Brian. "No way! Wasn't he that weirdo that was obsessed with you? He had the big glasses and he always stared at everyone."

"That's him," said Helen. "I remember he wouldn't stop calling me. No one else would ever ask me out, so I just used to tell him that I was going out with Joe so he would leave me alone."

"So did he?" asked Brian.

Joe interjected then. "It worked at first, but then he wouldn't leave me alone. He would come over to me in school and ask me all these creepy questions trying to get information about Helen because he thought we were dating. The guy could barely see, and he always leaned in really close when he saw someone. He creeped me out, too. Oh, by the way he wanted to give this to you, Helen." Joe tossed the card onto the counter and laughed to himself.

"It's not funny, Joe," said Helen. "I don't want that creep messing with me again after all these years."

"Relax, Helen," said Joe, calmly. "I told him you were on vacation, so he won't come in here again until his flight out, you're safe."

"Well, this card's going out with the garbage," Helen snatched it up and suddenly paused. She looked at the card again and brought a hand to her mouth in shock."

"What is it?" asked Joe.

"I don't believe it," said Helen as she stared at his card. "Rowdy R. Symcox…Philadelphia Orchestra…conductor."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Wings or any of its characters.

_Thanks to the reviewers so far, Gracewithoutidentity and CharmedGurlie. You guys are awesome!_

"Oh man…Oh man! I can't believe this," Helen lamented. "I just knew it. God hates me."

"I can't believe he didn't recognize me," said Joe, suddenly. "It's a good thing I wasn't wearing my nametag. Have I changed that much since high school?" he asked in astonishment.

"Hmm," Brian mused. "Well, either he's still blind as a bat, or he just didn't recognize you without your REO Speedwagon T-shirt and long hair, not to mention that silly mustache you had."

"Hey, you're just jealous cause you couldn't grow one."

"Oh yeah," said Brian. "I would have given anything to look like Cheech."

While Joe and Brian bantered back and forth, Helen sat thinking to herself. Maybe he wasn't so bad anymore; after all, it had been nearly thirteen years since high school. Maybe being a prestigious conductor meant that he couldn't be such a creepy weirdo anymore. Then again she had come across many a conductor who struck a bad note with her, but that was probably because they were always rejecting her. If Rowdy didn't reject her then, would he expect something in return?

"So, Helen," said Joe, remembering her situation. "You're not going to call him, are you? I mean, since he's a conductor…"

"Well, Joe, I don't know. I mean I really don't. This is something that's going to require a lot of thought and I'm just too confused right now to think."

Joe smiled. "Well, you're a big girl now and you can make your own decisions. I personally wouldn't want anything to do with him and would file for a restraining order if I had to, but whatever you decide is your business and I won't butt in."

"That'd be a first," Brian mumbled.

"If you need me, I'll be in my office," He told Helen, and he walked off. As soon as his office door closed, Helen rushed out from behind the lunch counter and ran in the opposite direction.

"Where're you going?" asked Brian.

"None of your business," Helen shot back, and she disappeared around the corner and down the hall.

Brian sat for a moment kicking his feet against the stool, and he glanced at his watch. He still had over an hour to kill before his next flight, and he was so bored he was getting restless. He leaned back against the bar and scanned the terminal for any interesting activity in the area. His keen eyes soon zeroed in on a target: a red-haired damsel, from the mainland perhaps. She was wearing a thin blue blouse and a black skirt. A further examination showed an absence of a wedding ring, and her perfect hair and spotless starched blouse suggested that she was childless. Perfect.

"Commander Hackett to field base," He mumbled to himself. "I'm moving in." The woman was sitting in one of the waiting chairs and Brian craftily slid into the seat next to her at which the woman looked up, surprised.

"Hi," said Brian. "I don't mean to be forward, and I know you've probably heard this a hundred times, but what's a beautiful girl like yourself doing all alone in an airport? But, then you're not alone anymore."

She laughed. "Well, I guess not."

"Brian Hackett, at your service. And you are…"

"Sheila Bennett. Nice to meet you. So what do you do, Mr. Hackett?"

"Please, call me Brian," he said. "Ah, I'm a pilot."

"Wow, that's impressive," said Sheila. "I've always been fascinated by pilots. Do you work here on the island?"

"Yeah, well I own a small commuter operation here on the island, flying a twin-engine Cessna. Business is starting to pick up pretty well."

"You're not so bad at picking up, yourself," said Sheila.

"Ah ha," Brian grinned. "So, does that mean I can take you out to dinner tonight? Sheila is a lovely name, by the way."

"Thank you, Brian. Well, I'm not from here so you just tell me the time and the place."

"How about The Club Car at eight o'clock. Should I pick you up?"

"Sure, I'm staying at one of the guest houses on the island." Sheila took out a card and pen and scribbled down her address and telephone number. She handed it to Brian and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later," she said. And then she was gone.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" said Brian as he congratulated himself.

"Hey, Hackett," said Roy deviously from behind his counter. Brian looked over, and from Roy's posture it appeared that he had been watching them.

"Roy, don't you have small children to frighten?" asked Brian with a sigh. "What do you want?"

Roy responded with a look of mock distress. "That hurt Hackett, that really hurt. Now listen, I just wanted to ask you something. You've heard of a jackrabbit trying to get into its burrow, right?"

Brian stared, bewildered. "Roy, what are you talking about?"

"Well, the jackrabbit can't get into its burrow unless it has a safety net. You've seen the old Bugs cartoons, those burrows are a long way and they go straight down. Well anyway, to put it in plain terms, I'm in need of a few carrots, Bugs, so either you loan me some or I'm pulling your safety net out from under your burrow tonight."

"I'm not following you, Roy," said Brian.

Roy sighed exasperatingly. "God, you people are so damn slow. I heard you tell that girl some dumb tale about you owning the airline, so either you fork over some cash or I'll tell her the truth."

"You wouldn't," said Brian, staring in disbelief.

Roy laughed. "Oh, wouldn't I? Wait till she finds out you lied in the introduction phase. That'll kill any plans you had for tonight, dinner and afterward. Hmm?"

"Ahhh! Okay, fine! How much do you want?"

"Oh, I'm not particular," said Roy. "Fifty ought to do it. I might even pay you back."

Brian shoved the money in his hand and stormed off, leaving Roy in a fit of laughter. He tried to forget about him as he went to grab a snack before the flight.

Helen hurried to the pay-phone in the hallway, card in hand. She had a feeling about this, a very good feeling. She dialed the number and was put through to Rowdy's answering service.

"Yes, hello. My name is Helen Chapel. Mr. Symcox gave me his business card and he was wanting to get in touch with me. My home number is 409-555-5782. And I will be home all evening. Please give him my message. Thank you."

She hung up the receiver, and hoped desperately that he would call.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry it took so long for the update! I've been very busy with college and an internship, but I hate to leave a piece of fiction unfinished. So here is the next installment. Again, so sorry for the wait--I'll try to write more soon._

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Brian hummed random show-tunes to himself as he shaved in the bathroom. His clothes were neatly pressed and laid out on the bed, and at present he was attired in a green terrycloth bathrobe.

"Got a date tonight?" Joe asked casually. Shaving and humming were almost a nightly routine for Brian.

"Yeah, I picked up a cute little red number in the terminal today. I'm taking her out to dinner." As Brian splashed water on his face, Joe was opening drawers and looking around, scratching his head in thought.

"Hey Brian?"

"Yeah."

"Have you seen my new crouton pinchers?"

Brian burst out laughing. "Crouton pinchers!? What the hell is that?" Then his expression changed a little as he thought of something. "They wouldn't happen to be green with little white-tipped ends, would they?"

Joe's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he answered slowly. "Why? What did you do with them?"

"Nothing." Joe moved in and continued to stare, and Brian finally caved in. "Well, how was I supposed to know they weren't real tweezers!? My nostrils were stretched so far that I was able to yawn through my nose. Pretty fascinating, now that I think about it. I could have listened to you all day without looking bored out of my skull."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Brian! Where are they now?"

"They're in my shirt pocket," said Brian, motioning to the shirt he had laid out for his date later. Joe looked at him. "So I was thinking about using them tonight! You never know what kind of a conversationalist she might be."

Turning back to his primping activities, Brian heard his brother calling his name again in the same tone. With a frustrated sigh, Brian turned around. "What! What, for God's sake, what!?"

"What the hell is this? Sandpiper Airlines, owner Brian Hackett." Joe was reading a fake business card that Brian had put in his shirt pocket. Brian cursed under his breath and rubbed his eyes, tiring of the constant bickering. "Brian, I thought I told you not to make any more of these. You're not the owner of Sandpiper--I am."

"No kidding. You don't think I know that? Come on, Joe, I just told it to a girl so she'd go out with me. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is every time you do this I have to play along with your little game and start telling lies myself when you show up with a girlfriend who wants to hear all about how you started up your own airline. Well, I'm sick of it! No more cards. No more lies." Joe tore the business card into tiny pieces and flushed them down the toilet. Then he stormed out of the room.

Brian huffed. It was getting late and he had to hurry to finish getting ready. He still resented being bossed around by Joe all the time, even though they weren't kids anymore, but he wasn't going to let it bother him. After all, he still had a whole case full of business cards in his sock drawer.

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Helen had been practicing all evening. She sat on a wooden chair in her living near the phone, plugging away at a difficult piece by Handel.

Ever since she was a little girl, it had been Helen's dream to play in a professional orchestra. Sometimes it seemed such an impossible dream, and then other times opportunity was so close she could almost feel it breathing down her neck. But she was always disappointed in the end. Her life remained a constant, steady stream of waking up, practicing, going to work at the airport, and coming home to look forward to an evening of more practicing.

Now and then she would break the never-ending practice cycle by either quitting temporarily out of frustration or by auditioning to further her career. Neither break had yet brought her happiness, and it seemed she was forever doomed to a life of musical purgatory, neither able to quit nor succeed.

"Briinnnnggggggg!"

Helen practically flung her bow across the room as she lunged for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Helen?" said a voice on the other end. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, yes!" She tried to keep her voice calm. "Is this Rowdy?"

"The one and only."

"Oh Rowdy, it's so good to hear from you. It's uh...It's been a long time." Helen had already decided that she didn't want to mention the possibility of an audition with Rowdy. She didn't want to seem too eager, and she thought that he probably wasn't calling her to audition her. He had always been obsessed with Helen, and if she could still play on that she might be able to lure him in and snag a position in one of the most prestigious orchestras in the country.

"Too long," said Rowdy. "So, how was your vacation?"

"What?"

"Mr. Fentbend, I think it was, behind the lunch counter. He said you were on vacation when I went in earlier. Did you decide to come back early?"

"Oh, yes--Actually, something really important came up here at home, so I decided to stay. So Rowdy, what brings you back to Nantucket?"

"Well, I'm visiting my parents."

"Oh." There was a moment of awkward silence on the phone, and Helen could hear Rowdy's breathing.

"But, Helen," he said reluctantly. "To be honest with you I, well...I wanted to see you. You know, I-I thought maybe we could get together and, well, catch up. Since we're old friends..."

As Rowdy talked, he suddenly began to sound more and more like his old self--shy, self-conscious, and stammering. Helen could hear the confidence and assurance in his voice fading, and she experienced a very eerie feeling of slipping away through time, back to a time in her life when she was overweight and only boys like Rowdy would call her (and bug her) on the weekends. It was such a discomforting feeling that she came extremely close to telling him to leave her alone and slamming the phone receiver down. But she caught a glimpse of her cello, her dream flashed before her eyes, and she forced herself to be nothing but pleasant to him. Even by this time, Rowdy was still struggling to get his words out.

"...so, um, unless you're busy, of course, maybe..."

"Rowdy Symcox, are you asking me out on a date?" asked Helen. Rowdy seemed taken aback.

"Well, I-I, uh..."

"Where would you like to go?" asked Helen in the sweetest voice she could conjur up. Rowdy didn't speak for a moment, and when he did he was clearly delighted.

"Great. Great! That's fabulous. So you can make it. Uh...how about the Club Car? It's a nice, casual atmosphere. How about I pick you up at your place?"

"Perfect," said Helen, silently congratulating herself on her devious yet surreptitious methods for advancing her career.

Now, what would she wear? Perhaps the little green blouse, with the low neckline...


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do now own "Wings" or any of its characters, I am not making a profit from this, etc..._

"Oh, you ravishing little thing you," said Helen as she leered into the mirror. "Who needs talent when you've got a hot body like this. Ol' Rowdy boy won't be able to resist it. Ha!"

Rowdy had not seen Helen since high school, and a lot had changed for her since then. She wondered again how he would react to her newfound looks and giggled to herself. According to Joe and Brian, Rowdy hadn't changed much, and she knew she would have to probably force herself to even look at him, but she didn't care. "Anything's worth doing to get a place in that orchestra," she told herself. Again, she promised herself that she appear to be another eager foot looking for an easy foothold. The conversation would naturally drift in the direction that she wanted to go once they began discussing Rowdy's career he would surely offer her a chance to audition.

Outside Helen heard a car pull up, and she discreetly peeked through the blinds to find out what Rowdy was driving. "Hmm, BMW. Not bad." Gathering her purse she headed out the door, stealing one last glance in the mirror before leaving to go downstairs.

The doorbell rang twice before she could get downstairs to answer it. She opened the door to find Rowdy just as she remembered him, with possibly a little more muscle tone than he had when he was seventeen, dressed in a casual suit with a striped shirt and a flaming red tie. He peered at her through thick glasses.

"Helen?" He asked in disbelief. "Um, is-is that you? Helen!? Oh, my God! You look fantastic!"

Even from a guy like Rowdy, Helen couldn't help but adore the attention. She smiled and blushed and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, what can I say? All those years of running from you finally paid off--into a size 3," she added with a giggle.

Rowdy still gaped at her, amazed. "They didn't tell me you'd gotten so thin. Of course, I'd always admired you no matter what size you were."

"Who's they?" Helen frowned.

"Well, just people around the island, you know."

"Oh, so when you say 'they,' you just mean a very general 'they'."

Rowdy winked, made a clicking noise with his tongue, and pointed a finger at her. "You got it, kid. Now come on little lady, and I'll take you for a spin in the new Rowdymobile."

Helen had to remind herself to smile. Even with the BMW and the (slightly) improved physique, Rowdy was as much of a dork as he ever was. What had she gotten herself into?

As they drove to the Club Car, Helen began to realize how desperate she was becoming. Even as a fat, unpopular, and insecure teenager she wouldn't had ever thought of giving Rowdy the time of day. Now that she was a beautiful, capable adult with at least some musical talent (she thought), she was practically crawling on her knees to this miserable little worm. Oh God! She wanted to crawl underneath the all-leather seats and wood-grain console, and die a quick and easy death.

"So," said Rowdy casually, "How's the gang?"

Helen couldn't believe her ears. "The gang?"

"Yeah, you know. Joe, Brian, the rest of the guys."

Knowing perfectly well that Rowdy had never been a part of their "gang," Helen said, "Oh, everyone's doing just great. Joe runs Sandpiper Air."

"Oh, yeah! I flew in on one of their flights. Very nice airline. Joe owns it, you say? Amazing--that was his brother I talked to at the lunch counter, Fenpinn...Ben Fenpinn."

Helen stared at him oddly, but then she vaguely recalled Joe's stammering responses to Rowdy behind the lunch counter, and she just nodded.

"Funny," said Rowdy. "I never knew Joe and Brian had another brother..." Rowdy's words trailed off and the pair drove in silence for a while. Soon they came to a red light and were stopped for the time being. After some more uncomfortable silence followed, Helen looked up and was startled to see Rowdy staring intensely at her. She smiled a little and shifted uncomfortably.

"Uh, what are you doing, Rowdy?"

"What? Oh, sorry," Rowdy shook his head. The light turned green and they began driving again. "I-I just can't help it, Helen. You're prettier than the moon at noon-I mean, oh..." He seemed so serious, so intensely concentrated on being suave and romantic but yet so incompetent, that Helen couldn't help but laugh."

Rowdy appeared embarrassed, and a little irritated. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm sorry," said Helen, who was fighting to stifle giggles. "That was just a little silly, Rowdy." She laughed again, and Rowdy finally had to agree, and he began to laugh a little.

The car pulled into a tight parking space across a busy street and Rowdy sprinted around to open the door for Helen. The pair then waited for the walk signal so they could cross. Helen stared at the weird little man next to her, wondering what he was thinking. Didn't he know she was still a dedicated cellist? Why hadn't he mentioned his occupation? It was usually the first thing that was discussed on a date, but Rowdy had not yet bothered to bring it up.

"The streets sure are crowded tonight," said Helen, and Rowdy nodded. "I'm surprised they don't have someone out here 'conducting' traffic."

Rowdy whistled a tune but offered no response.

Helen let out a deep sigh. Cars filled the street and angry, impatient drivers honked at one another. "All those horns being blown kinda sound like a big brass symphony being played, don't you think?"

"What? Oh, yes. Absolutely," said Rowdy. Helen shook her head in frustration. She was obviously getting nowhere fast. Finally they were able to cross and they went into The Club Car. It was pretty crowded inside and they had to stand and wait for a moment before they could be seated.

They were being led to their table when Helen accidentally bumped into a lovely red-headed woman who was obviously trying to get back to her seat.

"Oh, excuse me," said Helen politely.

"No, no, it was my fault." The woman smiled and moved on.

After the waiter took their drink orders, Helen suddenly blurted out, "You know Rowdy, I still play the cello."

Rowdy's expression was difficult to read, but in a voice that rang with calmness he said, "Oh, really."

"Yes, yes I do. I pluck away at it, four hours a day, seven days a week for the past fifteen years or so. Yep, I've been trying to make it into the professional world, but just haven't received the right offer yet. You know how it is, right?"

Rowdy took the liberty of ordering for Helen. He made it a point to order the most expensive item on the menu, (which was somewhere around twenty dollars) and told the waiter to make certain that the beef was prepared extra tender for his 'little lady.' Rowdy then added a nod, a wink, and a click of the tongue. Helen was beginning to despise his clicking noises, but she nevertheless forced her mouth to turn upward at each end to somewhat resemble a smile. She was becoming a bit suspicious. Not knowing how much more she could take, she resolved at that moment that before their plates were taken up at the end of the meal, she would get to the bottom of Rowdy's tactics and find out where the future of her musical career stood with this strange, squirmy little man.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do now own "Wings" or any of its characters, I am not making a profit from this, etc...

So, so sorry for the delay! I'm in my last semester of college (while teaching) and it's been hectic!

"Hello again, Mr. Hackett," said Brian's date, returning to their table in the Club Car after a trip to the ladies room.

"Ah, lovely Sheila. The ruby of mine eye!" Brian jumped out and pulled out her chair, allowing Brian a good view of her planting her rather well-formed behind down onto the seat. With two large steps he made it back to his seat on the opposite side of the table. Brian had chosen a table in the back, he told Sheila, to give them a little more privacy.

They had already ordered drinks, and when the waiter came around to take their orders, Brian ordered a steak with baked potato and Sheila only asked for a salad.

When the waiter left, Brian said, "You know Sheila, you could have more if you want. You can have anything from the menu--of course, if you're trying to watch your figure it's understandable. Hell, I'll even watch it for you."

Sheila laughed. "Thank you Brian, but I'm really not very hungry tonight. To tell you the truth, I want to hurry up and get out of here so you can show me around your office, maybe even take me up in the plane."

"Come again?"

"Even since you told me that you own your own airline, I just haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It's so impressive, the way you just built the place up from nothing. Tell me that story again about how you donated your body to scientific research so you could pay for the start-up costs."

Brian coughed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Um, look Sheila. I'd be glad to show you around the airport anytime. But it's just so dull, I can tell you you're not missing anything."

"Would you take me up in the plane?"

Brian toyed around with her dress. "You know, you're...ravishingly beautiful."

"Oh, stop fooling around, Brian. Would you take me up in the plane?"

"Well, yeah. I guess I could..."

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

"...but I was sort of hoping we could have a romantic evening, you know. Just the two of us, getting comfortable, taking our shoes off, maybe snuggling on the couch."

Sheila scoffed, "We can do that anytime. This is the chance of a lifetime. Well, for me anyway, but you've been going on so long about how proud you are of your airline that it must be a thrill for you to be able to show it off."

"Yeah," said Brian as he slumped down in his seat. "It's a thrill all right." Now he would have to spend the rest of the night figuring out how to make her forget about the plane and get her where he really wanted her--in his bed. Maybe if he got her drunk enough.

Meanwhile, Helen and Rowdy were seated across the room waiting for their dinner to be served. Rowdy made an elaborate show of pouring sweet-n-low into his iced tea and stirring swiftly and carefully with his spoon, then repeating the ritual until he had gone through four of the little pink packs. After five minutes of this, Helen cleared her throat.

"So, Rowdy," she said carefully.

"Yeah?" His attention was still focused on sweetening his tea.

"You never did say what you do for a living."

Rowdy looked at her. "You got my card, didn't you?"

"Well, yes but--I was just curious. What's it like being a conductor of such a prominent orchestra?"

Rowdy just smiled. "It's nothing really, just a job."

She stared at him. "Yeah, I gathered that. And…?"

"And you're looking hot, tonight," Rowdy winked at her.

Helen was feeling frustrated again. "You know, Rowdy, It just seems like, since I play cello and you're a conductor…we're both music lovers obviously, and it seems like we would have this one thing in common to talk about. But instead all you can do is stir that tea--Oh, give me that!!" Helen, tired of hearing the spoon and ice clanking noisily in Rowdy's glass, grabbed the spoon and tossed it onto the table.

"What about the performance in New York last week? The concert for charity at Carnegie Hall? The reviews were fantastic. Surely you can talk about that. How did you feel about the performance overall?"

Rowdy took a drink of his over-sweetened tea and made a face. "Well, like you said, and the reviews said, the performance was sublime. There was a wonderful turnout and it couldn't have gone better. I wish you had been there."

Helen glared at him and shook her head in disgust, so angry and upset that she felt like crying and running home. Rowdy appeared shocked at her reaction.

"Helen, what? What is it!?"

"Oh, Rowdy," she said, her voice barely audible above the throng of voices in the room. "I've looked at schedule for the Philadelphia orchestra. They performed in St. Louis last week. There never was any charity concert at Carnegie Hall, I made it up."

If someone had passed by and suddenly decided to grab the steak knife, cut off all of Rowdy's fingers, and stick them in his ears, he could not have looked more stunned and dismayed than he did at that moment. It appeared the cat was out of the bag, and Helen was furious for not having seen through his petty scheme earlier.

"Rowdy, how could you!? You're not really a conductor, are you?"

He looked down ashamed and flushing a deep red color. Meekly he looked up again with the slightest hint of a hopeful expression on his face, but when faced with her livid stare and angry frown he quickly ducked his head again.

"Does it matter?" He asked finally.

"Of course it matters! How could you ask that? You lied to me, deceived me, and now you've succeeded in humiliating me. I don't suppose you had all that in mind when you contrived this stupid plan of yours."

The angry words poured from her mouth, and they released pent-up feelings from years of insecurity and rejection, to the point where she no longer seemed to have control over her emotions. She was angry with Rowdy, but this startling revelation touch a nerve deep within her, and she was letting out every frustration she had ever had on the poor man. As Helen let loose on him, Rowdy's face slowly regained its normal color and his features steadied. He looked up again to face her.

"What were YOU thinking?" he asked her.

"What!?" Helen was so blinded by fury that she couldn't comprehend what he could possibly have to say.

"I asked what you were thinking. Were you thinking that the only reason you were going out with me was because you thought I was a conductor, and could boost your music career? Was that it!?" Rowdy's voice rose with anger now, and it was Helen's turn to be stunned into silence.

He continued. "Furthermore, I'll bet you never gave any thought to how I would feel about being used. Did it ever occur to you that, unlike you, I actually cared a great deal for the person who was going out with me tonight? And I knew that this was the only way I could get her to give me a fair chance, without blowing me off like she always has. Well, I can see now that it will never work out between us. You could never love me, or even like me, for me. So," Rowdy took out some money and threw it on the table. "Here's my share for the dinner. Have a nice life, Helen."

Rowdy jumped and stormed out of the room, leaving Helen speechless. She noticed after a moment that people were staring, but she only shot them a nasty glare before looking down at her clasped hands.

"Oh, God," she said softly. "What have I done?" She felt terrible now, and realized that she had been the one with selfish motives all along. Geek or not, Rowdy had feelings too, and she had probably made him feel exactly how she used to when she had been an outcast, and unloved.

"Well, I might as well go ahead and order desert," she told herself, as she expected to be wallowing in her own self-pity for the rest of the evening. A little wine wouldn't hurt either. But what about Rowdy?

"You're a big girl now, Helen," she told herself. "Big girls take responsibility for their mistakes, and rectify them." She gathered her bag and called the waiter to bring her the check.

"And a cheesecake to go, please." 


	6. Chapter 6

"Yes! Yes, oh yes, Brian, do it again! Come on!"

With a sigh, Brian put his hands on the controls and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, due to hurricane-force winds we will be forced to make an unscheduled emergency landing. Please fasten your safety belts and remain calm." Brian felt like an utter fool, participating in role-play in a plane that was still parked on the ground in the hanger. Not that he had even been one to reject the idea of role-play, but at least on other occasions he had received some pleasure out of the bargain as well.

Sheila was ecstatic, and she breathed deeply as if to take in the moment and savor the feeling of near-death in this incredible machine. She had been going on like this for the past ten minutes, and Brian had already had to wrestle an oxygen mask from her. What a night this was going to be! He now regretted ordering all those glasses of wine for her. All he wanted to do was get her in bed, but all she wanted to do was "play airplane". What a one-track mind this girl had!

"Uh, Sheila, now that we've landed how about we go and seek shelter somewhere and huddle together for warmth, huh?"

Sheila's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she gave a little hiccup. "Brian, I thought you were supposed to be a pilot. Don't you know that you never venture from the plane when you don't know where you are? There could be wild savages out there."

"Friends of yours?" Brian muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," he gave one of those weary, patronizing smiles that he usually reserved for Lowell.

"Joe. Hey, Joe!" Someone outside was calling Joe's name, but the sound of the voice was steadily approaching, so Brian looked out and was more than a little surprised to see Rowdy Symcox waltzing up to him, duffel bag in hand.

"Joe?" Rowdy peered at him.

"Uh, no, It's me, Brian. Wow, Rowdy, It's been a long time. So I heard you and Helen were going out tonight; how'd that go?"

"Well, this is how it's going, Brian, I'm leaving. I need to get back to New Bedford tonight, so if we're not waiting on anyone else..."

Brian hesitated. "Uh, no, no. You see, Rowdy, I'm a little busy right now. I'm on a date. We don't have any scheduled flights tonight, but I'm sure that if you come back tomorrow, Joe will be happy to take you, uh, wherever it is you want to go."

"Look, I don't have time for this right now. I paid the lady at your counter handsomely and she said you were free back here. I'll even give you a little extra; I just need to get out of here."

Sighing, Brian gave in and took the money. "You know what, whatever, man. I can sympathize with you because my date's not going as planned either. In fact, I'm still on my date so you'll have someone to keep you company. Who knows, you two might even hit it off," he added jokingly.

Rowdy boarded the plane and Sheila, who had been gazing dreamily out a window in the back of the plane, looked at him suspiciously.

"Uh, Sheila, I hope you don't mind but I picked up a hitchhiker. As it turns out he knows how to fix planes as well, so we'll be taking off in just a moment."

"Oh," Sheila seemed to be interested. As Brian was steering the plane out of the hanger he saw a shape dart out in front of them; it was Helen! Stopping, he let her onto the plane.

"Helen, what are you doing!?" Brian asked, surprised to see her. But Helen was looking at Rowdy. Rowdy refused to look at her and instead stared at Sheila. Sheila was staring at Brian.

"Never mind," said Brian, who just wanted this night to end. "Just get on, we're going to New Bedford, you can join us if you want."

Helen felt hurt when Rowdy didn't acknowledge her, though she knew she probably deserved it. She just didn't want to leave him in the condition that she herself had been left in so many times.

"Rowdy, I just wanted to apologize. I really am sorry." The words sounded empty when they came out like that, and Rowdy still didn't appear convinced. He just sighed and turned away. She decided that being sincere and honest was the best approach; after all, though she was sorry she still didn't believe she was entirely at fault.

"Look, I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was being selfish and inconsiderate...but honestly, Rowdy, what did you expect? That's why you made up those fake cards in the first place, wasn't it? I know I was wrong, I admit it. But what you did was cruel--playing off my dreams of being in an orchestra."

Rowdy turned and looked at her incredulously. "Look, Helen, we've already been through this. You were wrong and I was wrong, and now we both go on with our lives. I'm sorry, too, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that why you came all this way?"

She sighed. "No, no, it's not that. Rowdy, I just realize what a complete idiot I've been and, well...we've both changed so much over the years, I just think we should give it another shot. You know, two respectable adults who just need to get to know each other."

Brian was very interested in their conversation and it sounded like it was getting good. Wait till Joe heard about this! Helen and crazy old Rowdy; who'd have thought it? So far they seemed to have forgotten he was there, and Brian kept silent so they wouldn't notice him and hopefully continue their dramatics. Glancing over at Sheila, he noticed that the wine had finally taken its toll and she had fallen asleep. "Yes," he thought. There was hope yet. Maybe if Rowdy and Helen kept it up she would get off with him in New Bedford, then he would have Sheila to himself again and maybe she would have the whole "airplane" thing out of her system.

Rowdy blinked. "You-you mean that Helen? You would really want to go out with me? Just me?"

"Yes I would, Rowdy," she smiled. "But as long as we're being honest with each other, what do you really do for a living?"

Rowdy didn't answer her, but instead seemed to find the clouds extremely interesting all of a sudden. Then he looked at her with a strange, almost sympathetic, look. "Helen, you don't know how long I've waited for you to honestly ask me out, and I can't tell you how much this means to me, but I'm afraid you don't really deserve me."

"I-I'm confused, Rowdy. Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm selfish to want you, and I don't want you to be in a relationship that began with lies and deception."

Helen smiled. "I'm touched, Rowdy. Really, I am. Can we still be friends?" she asked as she held out her hand.

Rowdy took it and shook it enthusiastically. "Friends!" He exclaimed triumphantly.

"Well, I feel much better about the whole thing," said Helen.

"You know what," said Rowdy. "Now that we're on the subject, I always thought you should have stayed with Joe. You were always going to prom with him, and he just seems like a guy who's got it all together. I mean, this is quite a fine plane he's got."

Helen shrugged. "Yeah, I guess if you like that sort of thing."

"Who's Joe?" A voice piped up. "I thought this was your plane, Brian."

"Well, no," said Helen. "Brian just works for..."

"Ah-ah-ah-AH!!!" Brian cried, trying to drown out Helen's unwanted explanation. "Uh, I don't know who this "Joe" is that you're referring to, but..."

"You lied to me?" asked Sheila, her red hair tousled from sleeping. She looked like a poisonous snake about to strike. "This isn't your plane. You don't own this airline, do you?"

"You told her you own the airline?" asked Helen, sealing his fate.

"Great, just great. You know what, just drop me off wherever we're going. I'll get another flight back," said Sheila, as she moved to the back of the plane. She and Rowdy ended up chatting quietly in the back, and Helen moved up front to keep Brian company.

"You should have learned from my experience, you know," said Helen. "It's not good to have lies and secrets floating around in the beginning of a relationship."

"Who said I wanted a relationship?" Brian retorted. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's just get this flight over with."

Soon they arrived at their destination. Rowdy and Sheila decided to depart together and have a drink to get to know each other. Before they left, Rowdy gave Helen his card again in case she ever wanted to call him, as one friend to another.

Helen laughed. "Rowdy, this is another one of your fake business cards."

Rowdy shook his head. "These aren't fake."

"What do you mean?" she asked, perplexed.

"Helen, I lied to you, but not when I gave you the card. Once we were out on a real date, I wanted to test you to see if my being a conductor really was the only reason she decided to see me. I know we hit a rocky spot there, but to show your gratitude for going to all the trouble to rectify the situation, I'd like to offer you an audition with the orchestra, if you're still interested."

"Still interested!!" Helen literally jumped into his arms and thanked him. "Rowdy, I'm glad to have you as a friend."

"Same here, Helen," he smiled. "See you, Brian."

Brian waved, and Helen screamed again as she took the seat next to him.

"I can't believe it. What luck!"

Seeing Helen bouncing off the seats in joy was enough for Brian to forget about his disastrous date, and he grinned.

"Good for you, kid," he said as they winged their way back toward Nantucket.


End file.
